Shane:The Greatest of These is Love
by Sentimentalthoughts
Summary: This story begins two days before To the Altar and follows the actions, thoughts and feelings of our leading lady, Shane McInerney throughout the rest of the week. The characters and inspiration belong to the gifted Martha Williamson and I Corinthians 13. I think it is slightly intense in places or deals with subject matter not for children. That is why I am rating it T.
1. Chapter 1

This story begins two days before _To the Altar_ and follows the actions, thoughts and feelings of our leading lady, Shane McInerney throughout the rest of the week.

In thinking about the character of Shane especially in To the Altar, I don't think she spent the week lost in contemplation or filled with angst. I was struck by how patient and understanding she was throughout the movie with Oliver. Shane seemed very happy and at peace. I wondered how she matured in faith and came to this point. I begin two days before the movie to provide a bit of a backstory. I also create a character not in the movie, Jewell Moorefield. Still the primary characters and inspiration for the story are the gift to us from Martha Williamson and I Corinthians 13. I hope you enjoy it.

 **Chapter One - Saturday: Love Is Patient**

Shane bounces out of bed Saturday morning ready to take on the day. She is going shopping – shopping for Rita. She has her day all planned. She will shower, dress, go to the coffee shop around the corner for their Saturday morning special – blueberry lemon miniature scones and a large cup of organic Kona coffee heavy on the sugar. After treating herself to breakfast she is going to buy that little something for Rita.

A month ago she scheduled an afternoon at the spa just for the two of them and reserved a special table at Montaldo's for this Thursday. But today is for purchasing a special gift. She is going to buy something that she knows no one in Rita's life is buying for her. It is something Rita will not buy for herself. It is something to curl Norman's cummerbund.

There is a boutique in Denver in which Shane has always wanted to shop – at least peruse. But even considering buying something for herself in this exclusive store seems foolish. She has never entered its doors. Rita's gift gives her an excuse. The shop is _Mon_ _Amour_ , Denver's finest lingerie boutique. It is the type of shop where brides add to their trousseau and married men purchase something extraordinary for an anniversary. The two women could go to a very different lingerie store. There is one located by Rita's apartment. Rita passes it every day. _Mon Amour_ is not that store.

As soon as Shane enters the boutique smells of lavender scented candles. Its fragrance isn't overwhelming. It is just that hint of something that differentiates this spot from anywhere else you may go today. Everything about the store is beautiful from the pale blush walls to the white trim to every lovely feminine garment. Ladies all wearing black pencil skirts and black jewel-neck blouses offer to help when you enter. This day they are short-staffed. Shane crosses the threshold and begins to browse without being intercepted.

A chandelier hangs in the middle of the room over a round mahogany table that displays an antique lace bed jacket and a sterling silver brush and mirror set. On the table is a sign in script that reads _Maintenant et Pour Toujours,_ Now and For Always. Partitions throughout the store create little alcoves each featuring a different color or particular style lingerie. At each alcove is an easel with its own sign naming the area: _Mon Chéri_ _,_ _Mon Amie, Mademoiselle, Madame_. Shane walks past hues of blue, pale pinks, and shades of yellow. Across the way she catches a glimpse of red and a corner for black. But in the back is a semicircle of white. She is drawn there. This area is the store's namesake: _Mon Amour._

On a faceless manikin perched on a round pedestal 18 inches off the floor is a white silk full-length robe with bell sleeves. A border of lace follows every edge of the robe as if the entire robe is magically a seamless garment. It is the definition of loveliness. The robe drapes open in the front with the sash hanging loosely from the loops at the waist. Peaking out from the front is the matching gown. The gown is a completely sheer sheath of silk chiffon. The lace that trims the robe is minimally appliqued by hand on the sheath. Matching silk creates the edge of the neckline and only the thinnest of straps that crisscross the plugging back. A slender silk border traces the hem and the side slits of the gown. The translucent gown reveals a pair of lace trimmed bikini briefs underneath. Suddenly Shane isn't thinking about Rita. She is thinking about herself.

"You would be quite alluring in that. It's from Belgium. May I get one boxed for you?"

"Oh, Oh no. I'm not."

"I'm sorry I startled you. My name is Georgina. How may I help you dear?"

"I came to buy a wedding gift. I'm just the maid of honor not the bride."

"Then what may I show the lovely maid of honor?"

"Something short and in red – or maybe black – for the bride. Preferably without owls," says Shane, mumbling the last sentence.

"We have several lovely things. Come right this way," replies the very professional clerk, ignoring the last comment. She learns in her twenty-two years of working at _Mon Amour_ to ignore some things and not to ask about others. A reference to owls seems best ignored.

Shane explains that the bride is gorgeous and completely innocent of how beautiful she is. Most importantly, the bride's mother passed recently and so she wants to be the one to buy her that little something extra, something flirty and fun.

After forty-five minutes of finding multiple items that she likes for herself, she thinks better of actually making the purchase for Rita. She recalls the time she dressed Rita for the Miss Special Delivery pageant. Rita looked amazing and felt horrible. It is Rita who should feel beautiful.

"Would it be possible for me to purchase a gift card and then bring Rita into the store this Thursday afternoon to choose something for herself?"

"Certainly, we have a special gift card designed for brides," said Georgina.

Shane purchased the gift card making certain that it would cover whatever Rita might choose. The card would insure that Rita left with something for herself, but something in which she was still herself.

"Allow me also to give you my business card. Call and I will gladly take care of anything for you. I could even have some things pulled for you when you arrive on Thursday."

"Thank you," Shane replied. "You have been very helpful."

As she walks out the door she cannot resist looking back over her shoulder perchance to glimpse the white ensemble at the back of the store. She knows why women and men love this shop. The assistants are as smooth as the silk they sell. Georgina is welcoming, delightful, and very knowledgeable. Maybe one day she will return – without Rita.

The gift card she purchased is a generous sum, especially for Shane's income, but it is for Rita and she wants her to have something special. Shane loves Rita, admires Rita, respects Rita. In some ways she feels a little like a protective older sister toward her. "Uh oh, my younger sort of sister is getting married. What does that make me? The old maid?"

Shane wonders what the white robe and gown cost. It probably comes under the heading of "if you have to ask you can't afford it." She could probably Google it. Before she realizes she walks two blocks in the wrong direction lost in thoughts of lingerie. She laughs at herself. Looking around she notices the tearoom across the street. Hot tea seems perfect on a chilly but sunny Saturday. She crosses the street, enters, and asks for a table for one.

As she sits stirring her tea she cannot help but think of the diaphanous white gown. She wonders what Oliver would think. What would he find alluring? Isn't that the word Georgina used – alluring? She taps the spoon on the rim of the cup allowing the droplets of tea to fall. She better think of other things. The man has not even told her that he loves her. A marriage proposal is nowhere in sight and married would be the only way Oliver O'Toole would ever see her in anything from _Mon Amour_.

Regardless, the thoughts of honeymoons and lace put her in mind of something in a box back at the DLO. That is a purchase she hopes to make Monday – a purchase she can afford and no one will discover. She can't bare the thought of it going up for public auction – someone buying it, for almost nothing – throwing it in a pile somewhere and forgetting it - turning it into something tacky. She really has no use for the item she tells herself. She doesn't even know if it will fit. Things can be altered! But the material is so beautiful. She will transform it into a cocktail dress at least. There is something about the lace that reminds her of the exquisite robe and gown at the back of the store. Maybe she can turn the veil into a sheath like the….

"Oh, I've got to stop this. McInerney, get a hold of yourself."

Of one thing she is certain. She has to get the package before it goes public. There is no way she can bid on it in front of the Denver Main Branch of The United States Post Office! Everyone will make assumptions and she will be the laughing stock of the place. Oliver will join a monastery and spend the rest of his life in humiliated seclusion. She can see it now – Oliver sans suit – monks robe and a Bible.

"May I bring you another pot of tea?" the server asked.

That was the second time today a request to serve snaps her out of her musings.

"Oh, no thank you. Just the check."

The rest of the day Shane manages to keep her mind on whatever tasks are at hand. She has a coat at the dry cleaners that she has to get before it closes at 2:00 p.m. and her bridesmaid dress is ready as well. All in all it is pretty as bridesmaids' dresses go. Rita allowed her to choose – as long as it was red.

She wants to be home by 3:30. Oliver is coming at 5:00. They are going to eat at Donatello's then go to the movies to see _Rear Window_. It is playing at _The Classic_ – a small cinema complete with an organ player and heavy burgundy draperies that open and close before each showing. Tickets for showings at this niche theatre cost $20.00 per person. You could see the latest box office blockbuster for less at the mall theatre. Here you pay for the experience of stepping back in time.

Shane likes horror movies and Oliver likes suspense. Shane says Oliver just likes anything filmed more than fifty years ago. He is a particular fan of Hitchcock.

"I saw _The Birds_. I wasn't impressed. And it was in black and white," said Shane.

"Have you seen _North by Northwest_?"

"No,"

" _Vertigo_?"

"No."

" _Rear Window_?"

"No"

"Then you haven't seen Hitchcock," he says with a smug grin.

Oliver convinces her that suspense is far more terrifying than gore. At least after he kisses her she is in full agreement. The movie date is set.

As a fan of old movies Oliver follows the coming attractions at _The Classic_. He notices that _Rear Window_ is to play this particular weekend. He asks her to join him for this special date three weeks in advance. Oliver never waits to the last minute to ask her out but three weeks in advance says that even for Oliver this is special. That however is before his new distracted disposition begins to manifest.

Shane returns home from her productive errand running in plenty of time to get ready for their night out. She can't decide what to wear. Oliver has been in quite the mood as of late – distant – preoccupied. The mood seems to be increasing in intensity. At times he is even ill tempered. If he orders clams tonight she will know something is terribly wrong. She tries to think if there is something she has done or not done and she really can't think of anything – well nothing out of the ordinary. She still saves the really bad stuff for Fridays but she hasn't even needed a Friday as of late. Here she is daydreaming about dresses and lingerie and her date may not be aware she is even in the room. That's a depressing thought.

Classic Italian restaurant, classic movie – let's go with a classic little black dress - hair down, no hair up, heels high, lipstick red. Ready to go. No wait – perfume! Now ready to go.

She knows when he arrives wearing charcoal slacks, navy blazer, white shirt and no tie that it is a good sign. The evening is off to a good start; Oliver does not order clams. However, he is rather quiet. As the evening progresses, he relaxes more and more.. Dinner is delicious. He even offers her a bite of his manicotti from his plate. They share a decadent chocolate dessert. They laugh. She flirts. He likes it. Even the weather is cooperating – no rain.

Going to _The Classic_ really is an experience going back in time. Oliver is in his element and he loves sharing this with Shane. She is drawn to the light in his eyes more than the antique candy counter but his delight is her pleasure.

"Would you care for popcorn? Fountain beverage? Raisinettes?" he asks.

"Raisinettes? I don't think so," she chuckles. "I'll have whatever you are having."

They decide that neither is hungry after their delicious dinner and leave the counter empty handed. Well, not exactly – holding onto only each other's hand.

They enter the movie theatre to the sound of the Wurlitzer organ and the feel of velvet covered theatre seats. She isn't sure about Hitchcock yet but coming here is certainly an experience. She does think it is nice to be in a theatre where your shoes do not stick to the spilled soda on the floor.

Oliver is right. Suspense is better than gore. She is totally engrossed in the story. But when Grace Kelly pulls her lingerie out of her handbag, Shane's mind flashes back to the white gown. "Way to go girl," she thinks to herself. "Your boyfriend is trapped in a cast and you come with a nightie from Paris." She steals a glimpse at Oliver and realizes that his eyebrows are raised and he may be a little uncomfortable. But he is smiling.

The two leave the theatre laughing and talking arm in arm. Oliver is a virtual expert on Jimmy Stewart films. Leaving the theater he talks of a plethora of films they should see together some day.

Shane likes that he speaks of things they might do together in the future. She likes holding his arm as they walk to the car. She likes that he laughs easily and seems more himself. The truth is she likes – no she loves – everything about him.

She starts to suggest that next time they take in an action movie at the mall but she thinks better of it. She doesn't want to say anything to remind him of their time apart. This evening is going too well to risk doing anything to ruin it.

As he parks the car in front of her house and walks around to open the door for her, she realizes that her heart is beating a little faster. "Why am I nervous? Could this be the night he says those three words?" She so wants to tell him. She is ready to say it. She has told him in a 1000 different ways but not in the way that overflows her heart – I love you. I love you so much. She could have told him when he arrived and told her that she looked beautiful tonight. She could have told him when he shared his manicotti. She could have told him when he offered his arm and walked her to the car. She could have told him….. "Get a hold of yourself McInerney," she thinks to herself.

As soon as he opens the door she begins nervous chatter to stop herself from saying what she knows she should not. "I can't believe I've lived my whole life without ever seeing _Rear Window_ before tonight. Oh my goodness when she is in his apartment and you know he is coming and the lights go out and then the police come and she is pointing to the wedding ring and he notices. That entire scene was so suspenseful."

"Both my right hand and I are aware of that," said Oliver with a grin.

"Oh, sorry about that. Did I hurt you?"

"It is fine," says Oliver with a teasing chuckle as they bump shoulders. "I will see my physician on Monday."

They both laugh.

"Come in for a cup of coffee?" says Shane a bit hesitantly.

"Please don't go yet. Please don't let this night end," she thinks to herself.

Oliver does not answer. He simply follows her inside. Shane stops in the small entrance to remove her coat. Oliver, always the gentleman, helps her and lays the coat on a small chair. As she turns she is within inches of him. Neither move. Her high heels put them almost face-to-face. He seems to search her eyes for something. He gently takes her in his arms and begins slowly to kiss her. She feels his hand move to the back of her neck while the finger tips of his other hand find the small area of her exposed back made bare by the design of the dress. She can feel her own heart pound. He holds her closer. She thinks he has to notice her pounding heart.

She loses all sense of time and place. She could be anywhere. But she can be with no one else but him. Oliver seems to be searching for something in this kiss and it isn't physical. He is longing for something – something emotional – some answer – some truth.

His arms relax his hold on her as he ceases the kiss and leans his forehead against hers. With eyes closed he whispers, "It's late. I need to go."

"Thank you for a lovely evening," she quietly responds. She cannot think. She can barely breathe.

He turns his face away from her, says goodnight, and walks out the door.

Shane does not question his sudden departure. She makes no effort to stop him. No "what about coffee." The moment is both thrilling and troubling. Whatever is going on with Oliver O'Toole, she will have faith. She will trust in something far greater than the two of them. She will trust the timing. She will at least try.

Shane has every intention of handing over her worries and getting a good night's sleep. Instead she is a little more restless than she intends. She knows exactly whom she needs to see for advice.


	2. Chapter 2: Love is Kind

**SUNDAY: Love is Kind**

The first thing Sunday morning Shane opens the curtains at the front of her house. By ten o'clock she makes periodic trips to the window to make certain that she doesn't miss her. When 10:45 arrives and she has not seen anyone come out of the house across the street she grabs her coat, walks up to the front door, and rings the bell. After no immediate answer she knocks and calls through the closed door.

"Jewell, it's Shane. Everything ok?"

A petite woman bent with age slowly opens the door. She wears a peach chenille robe and slippers; her walk is greatly assisted by a cane.

"Good morning, come on in June Bug."

"Are you ok? I didn't see you come out for church so I came to check on you."

The elderly lady slowly lowers herself into the recliner and motions for Shane to take a seat on the couch.

"I'm fine. I was going to church but Arthur came to visit me yesterday in a bad way and I'm going nowhere – nowhere quickly. What's worrying those blue eyes?"

Shane met Jewell Moorefield the first week she first moved to Denver. Jewell brought Shane a plate of homemade sugar cookies to welcome her to the neighborhood. "Mrs. Moorefield, those are the best cookies I have ever eaten. You should box them and sell them. You would be rich." "Oh Shane, first of all call me Jewell and I'm already rich. It's just in things money can't buy." Unbeknownst to Shane then – she has an eighty plus year old mentor in faith living across the street. Since then, the woman who once walked straight and with ease is slowed with arthritis.

And Jewell's arthritis is in part responsible for how Shane first attended church with her and became close friends with this remarkable woman.

Jewell is from Mississippi. She and her husband moved to Denver in 1953. A career air force man, he was stationed there. They never saw any need to return to Mississippi. Their three children were all born in Denver. Her oldest son is an officer and a gentleman, as Jewell likes to say. He has four children that she will proudly tell you about – in detail. Her oldest daughter is a highly respected pediatric surgeon in Boulder. "Why she doesn't quit and stay home and raise her babies I'll never know." Her babies are now 17 and 20 years of age. Jewell's youngest son is a clown – according to his momma. Actually he is a lawyer with a huge firm in Chicago but his momma always calls him the family clown. His older brother and sister call him spoiled.

Jewell once lived in a larger house near the air force base. She said that she downsized to maintain her independence. Most Sundays, especially in warm weather, she still walks to church.

The first winter Shane is in Denver she leaves her house one Sunday morning to run to the market. As she pulls out she notices Jewell walking slowly with a cane – her usual smile missing.

"Jewell, can a give you ride?"

"Are you going to church?"

"I was going to the…"

But before she can finish, Jewell gives her such a look – dropped chin, eyes raised – her children call it "the momma look." The answer could only be one thing.

"Yes I am. We can – go – together. Just where are we going?"

Off the unlikely pair go. Shane is in jeans, a sweater, Nikes, and a winter coat. Jewell fashions an emerald green dress, matching winter coat, matching hat with wide brim, leather gloves, low heel pumps, her Bible and a cane – arthritis, 80 plus years of living, and all.

The church is only a few blocks away. The small diverse group and tiny choir are a warm and welcoming congregation. Since that time on particularly cold Sunday mornings Shane just "happens" to be going somewhere and gives Mrs. Moorefield a ride to church.

Mrs. Moorefield taught high school math for thirty-five years. She is almost as comfortable with a laptop as Shane. She stands only five feet two inches tall but Shane quickly sees why she had no trouble controlling a classroom of teenagers. She could control the entire air force. Why she could have a career and her daughter should not is something Shane does not fully understand. However, it is also something she does not question.

Mrs. Moorefield is a woman who experienced many hard life lessons. Her strength and toughness are matched by her compassion and mercy. Mrs. Moorefield grew up in the segregated south, went to work when she was thirteen, put herself through college, lost her husband in Vietnam, raised three successful children to adulthood as a widow, and lost her eldest grandson in Afghanistan.

When Shane needs advise or feels lonely, she shows up on Mrs. Moorefield's doorstep. She doesn't have to tell her. Jewell knows. It is "a momma thing." Shane wound up on Jewell's doorstep when she was homesick and when she ended things with Steve and even after an uncomfortable evening with a security guy from work. But her first real heart to heart is after she and Oliver have their first real argument. Jewell tells her to pray about it and it will get better. "Being a real friend sometimes means telling someone something they don't want to hear and patiently loving them until they listen. June Bug, you need to be praying. Talking to Jesus makes everything better." At the time, Shane does not have the heart to tell the woman that she doesn't know how to pray. How things changed.

During these advisory sessions Mrs. Moorefield's southern accent often comes out and she calls Shane "June Bug." Shane notices. One day she decides to ask about the nickname.

"Why do you call me June Bug sometimes?"

"Does it bother you?'

"No, I like it," said Shane.

"Well, it's because you remind me of a summer's day back in Mississippi. Your blonde hair and smile are like sunshine in June. I guess where I grew up, you give people you love a nickname."

Shane's eyes well with tears as she wraps her arms around her mentor, resting her head on Jewell's shoulder.

Shane drives Jewell to church more often than she accompanies her to church. But her visits to the sanctuary across the street continue. Recently she goes to church with Oliver – but not for the last couple of weeks. And that as well as Oliver's recent mood brings Shane to Jewell's altar this Sunday.

"Men," sighed Shane.

"Men? Or that one man I've seen coming by your house?"

"Jewell, I don't know what to do. It started about a few weeks ago. We had gone out to dinner. It was a Saturday. He seemed a little distracted. Usually he says, see you at church or I'll pick you up for church. He was about to leave and it just felt awkward. He hadn't mentioned anything about going to church or seeing me there. So I sort of lied. "

Shane bit her bottom lip and then rushed her conclusion.

"I volunteered that I wouldn't be able to go to church with him that I was going to have to take you."

"So that's why you were waiting on me with your car running a couple of weeks back," said Jewell.

"I'm sorry. It was just so strained. I wanted to let him off the hook," said Shane.

"You care but didn't want to pry or lie. Why do you think he hasn't asked you to go church?"

"Maybe he thinks I should go to my own church. Or maybe he runs late on Sundays and doesn't have time to come for me," said Shane.

"You don't have your own church. He knows that. And as far as I can see that man has never run late for anything. What are you really worried about?"

"There's a soprano in the choir that crossed my mind but honestly, I may be stupid, but I don't' think that's it. Last night when he left - I don't know. I wasn't sure if he never wanted to leave or if he couldn't wait to leave," said Shane.

Jewell could see the worry come into Shane's eyes.

"You're listening through the ears of fear not faith. June Bug, from everything you've told me over the years, and you were talking about him long before you were seeing him, this is good man like my Bill. When a good man is tempted not to leave is when he knows he must leave."

"Oh, I wasn't thinking of that," said Shane blushing.

"You told me it seems he has been troubled. Especially when a God-fearing man is troubled or trying to make a decision he goes to the Lord – in prayer, to church. Maybe you are distraction right now. And if he is trying to decide something important he needs to spend church time focusing on the Lord."

"What do I do?"

"You do the hardest part. Wait patiently, lovingly, prayerfully," said Jewell. "And in the meantime, I've got some leftover soup in the refrigerator. Why don't you warm it on the stove and have lunch with me?"

"Do you have any sugar cookies?"

"Does Denver have snow in winter?"

The two women eat lunch together. Jewell informs Shane of her grandchildren's latest accomplishments. Shane starts washing the dishes only to have Jewell insist on helping. The pain and stiffness in her joints is evident in her every labored move. Shane could do the work in less than half the time but sharing the load is important to both women. Finally they both return to the den and Jewell once again slowly lowers herself into her recliner.

"Before you came knocking on my door I was reading my Bible. We both missed church you know. I'm tired. Why don't you read it to me before you go."

Delivered with the tone of a benevolent but stern schoolteacher, the request could not be denied. Jewell hands Shane the open, well-worn King James Bible and the young apprentice begins to read.

 _Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal._

 _And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing._

 _And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing._

 _Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,_

 _Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;_

 _Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;_

 _Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things._

 _Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away._

 _For we know in part, and we prophesy in part._

 _But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away._

 _When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things._

 _For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known._

 _And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity_

Shane looks over at the recliner. Jewell has fallen asleep. She quietly slips out the door and goes home well fed – physically and spiritually.


	3. Chapter 3 It Doesn't Demand Its Own Way

Several fun, romantic fanfics for SSD have been posted recently. I was going to hold this for a while but I thought it might get cold as a follow up to TTA. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for the encouraging reviews.

 **MONDAY: Love Does Not Demand Its Own Way.**

It is Monday. The alarm beeps for Shane to wake. She does not hit the snooze button – not once. Her blender whirls a cranberry, orange, bee pollen and yogurt breakfast smoothie. (She has yet to master Kombucha smoothies – for breakfast at least.) Handbag and gift box in hand she heads out the door and off to work.

This is going to be a great day – a great week. Norman and Rita are getting married. She has the perfect plans for a girls' night out. Oliver has Norman's surprise party under control. "Oliver always handles things well," she tells herself with an even bigger smile. And she will purchase a certain parcel today. There is a spring in her steps and a sparkle in her eyes.

The only problem - Monday does not go as expected. Nothing about Monday goes as expected. The parcel she is going to purchase becomes a project to pursue. The bachelor party is not only unplanned but also incredibly forgotten. Even wedding plans have gone awry. Whoever heard of a runaway florist? Rita is now purchasing flowers from Penelope's Petals and Poppies. Yet when Shane comes home that evening she is still smiling. She may not have quite the bounce in her step – one too many steps – but she is still amazed at all that transpired.

"What a day!" Entering through the back door, Shane tosses her Royal blue coat on the kitchen table, sits in the first available chair, and takes off her shoes. The only thing causing her any consternation at the moment is her choice of shoes – her painfully beautiful high heels.

Rubbing her feet and speaking to no one not even a goldfish she declares, "Today I decided to wear these! My feet are killing me. No one told me we would go all over Denver today – DLO, Brown Palace, Oliver's, DLO, farm, back to the DLO."

After a brief self-applied foot massage she stands and grabs handbag, shoes, and coat.

"Shoes off, dress off, bath water on! Oops."

As she scoops up her coat the gift card to _Mon Amour_ that she left on the kitchen table hits the floor. "Well I believe you were obviously the right decision. From the confused look on Rita's face when I said the word steamy you, my little gift card, are needed."

Shane returns the card to the table where it will lie in wait until Thursday.

The barefooted DLO employee makes her way to her modestly furnished bedroom. The centerpiece of the room is a modernized version of a classic brass bed she ordered from Crate and Barrel when she first arrived in Denver. The double bed is more than adequate for the slender woman but the room's closet space has much to be desired. After one winter in Denver she knows a duvet and cover are needed to replace her thin bedspread. Tonight the soft down comforter with its huge water color roses of orange, pinks, and yellows looks wonderfully inviting. "What if I just throw myself across the bed and call it day?" she muses as she drops her shoes to the floor.

A bedside table with three drawers is home to a lamp that she bought in college. A slightly beaten cherry chest of drawers sits guard by the closet. It wasn't her first choice when she furnished the room but the size and the price of the used piece were right. Her childhood jewelry box with the ballerina that no longer pirouettes when wound sits atop the chest. A small dressing table with a lightly faded skirt left by the previous owner keeps it place by the window. This is the master suite and in her house she is the master.

Changing out of her dress the zipper hangs in the back. "Not the only closure I've had trouble with today." But her thoughts end there. She is not ready to contemplate that just yet. Right now her primary objective is a tub filled with hot water and bubbles that she is certain is calling her name.

"What I can't believe is that Oliver O'Toole forgot the bachelor party," chuckles Shane as she dips her foot through the froth of soap to the waiting warm water. "What is going on with that man? Thank goodness for Joe. Finger sandwiches at a bachelor party – oh perish the thought. Perish the thought – I am sounding like Oliver."

With her hair securely clipped on top of her head she submerges herself into the liquid respite. As she begins to relax events from the day begin to overtake her thoughts.

"A letter in a pocket – Who puts a pocket in a wedding dress? Better still who put the letter in the pocket? Apparently a woman named - Annaliese…I didn't realize that I was this tired… Annaliese, Annaliese that name should produce results. If I had to find a letter I'm glad I found a name to go with it. But who puts a pocket in wedding dress? The same person who sews a blessing into a wedding gown does. I wonder if I will ever have a blessing sown in a dress. I would have to need the dress first. Evelyn Rose would have to still be in business twenty years from now at the rate… oh well. Not going there. If I sit here much longer this hot bath is going to be a cold bath."

Out of the tub Shane wraps herself in a white terrycloth robe, frees her long hair from the tortoise shell clip, and sits at the dressing table. Amidst makeup, perfume, a tray for jewelry, and her comb and brush is an oval antique picture frame with a picture of Shane's great grandmother. Her dad said she looked like her. The ornate frame draws her thoughts back to the Brown Palace. The idea of returning there tomorrow is a pleasant notion even a welcomed one. She thinks about the beauty and history of the hotel and wonders what it might be like to stay there – to stay there with…. "Well, that's not happening any time soon either. At least I can have another cucumber sandwich."

She picks up her favorite bottle of lotion and begins her nightly routine. Finally as she brushes out the tangles of the day she looks in the mirror and her mind and her heart call back to another mirror – a much larger one, the full length mirror in DLO. This is part of her day that she isn't certain she is ready to contemplate yet it is inescapable. She is as torn over the memory as the check she wrote for the dress.

Just thinking about it – about him in that moment causes her to put down her brush and close her eyes. She is standing there in her own little dream and suddenly he is behind her – with her. They are no longer in the present tense. They are caught between what is and what may one day be. She takes a deeper breath. This more sensual side – demonstrative boldness – that he does not flaunt overwhelms her. She can feel his hands at her waist. All it takes is one touch and she melts. Even now she can hear tacit permission to stay in this moment. Shush. For a split second they are united in what may be. For a split second she feels him step closer to her. For a split second she is his bride. Everything is perfect. But the fantasy does not last and the reality of being caught, of being fully exposed steals the dream. Embarrassment quickly settles itself between the two of them.

She opens her eyes and picks up the brush but her arms do not move. Her memory and her heart hang still in that in between space.

She feels her cheeks flush hot even now. The back of her hand touches her face. Embarrassment engulfs her but he does not allow her to drown. Instead just the memory of how he buttons the dress feels as if he is giving her his blessing to wish, to dream – to hope for all things. She is rescued – by him – rescued from humiliation by his touch, his smile, the twinkle in his eyes.

He expresses no reprimand, no disclaimer, no revulsion by her action. She is grateful. Perhaps the concept of her as bride is not foreign to him.

She cannot help but think of his hands – the way it feels for him to be at her waist, button the dress. It makes her miss him as she now sits there alone. His hands are gentle and sure – just as he is a gentle and confidant. How different his hands are from any other man she has ever known. She has been on dates with men whose hands tried to play with her buttons – to be her undoing. They were men she had to push away. But not Oliver. Never Oliver. He is not trying to unbutton anything. He is securing something - something for her. It is more than a dress. It is a wish, a dream, a hope.

She sits and rests for a moment in those now treasured memories of his hands – reaching – meeting - holding her. She cherishes his touch.

She remembers the first time he extended his hand to her. It is their first case after she decides to stay with the DLO. She thinks how he looks up at her crawling out of that window. He looks up to help her and offers his hand – this thoughtful gentleman. Even then she knows he is a uniquely caring man.

His hands hold her close when she is afraid in a locked vault and she feels safe. His hands keep her from falling when tripped by uneven pavement on their first official date and she feels steadied. His hands hold her while dreading a difficult decision and she feels certain. His hands lead her body and soul when they dance and she feels transported. And when his hands bring hers to his lips she feels treasured.

She smiles. No. No. His hands have never been the source of hurt or concern for her. Even today at her most vulnerable – she is only thrilled and made secure by his touch.

She longs for him now.

She swallows the lump trying to form in her throat and takes a tissue from the box on her table. Her eyes are a puddle of emotion. As beautiful as that moment is for her, she is torn by it. For his sake she would give up every wonderful second of that moment this morning. She never meant for him to see her. Can he pretend that it did not happen? She was not trying to manipulate him, seek anything from him. She certainly wasn't trying to get her own way with him. But from the moment he catches her in her – sees her – touches her – there is no turning back.

Her regret isn't over losing a dress that was never truly hers or even her own embarrassment. Her concern is Oliver. Here he is struggling with something – distracted and he walks in and finds her in wedding dress.

She is glad that she has the opportunity to tell him that she never intended for that to happen. She hopes her words lessen any pressure he may be feeling. She respects this man so much that the last thing she wants is to impose any pressure on him especially where their relationship is concerned.

"Please forget. Please do not by burdened by what you saw," she whispers.

She cannot forget but she genuinely hopes that he does.

With that thought Shane closes her eyes again. Only this time it is in prayer.

"Oh dear God let it be ok. Let him be ok. You know I did not mean for him to see. Whatever is distracting him, burdening him, please lift that load for him. Help me not to add to his whatever is bothering him. Help him to…to forget. I do not seek to demand my own way. But ultimately Father, not my way or even Oliver's way, but your way."

With that prayer uttered she finishes brushing her hair.

There is no more time to think of herself or Oliver.

"Turn back these covers and go to bed. Tomorrow you have a grandmother to find for Norman and a dress to deliver."

Shane trades her robe for her pajamas - a three-quarter-sleeve waffle-weave cotton sleep top in gold with matching gold and gray paisley sleep pants. The paisley print of the pants reminds her of one of Oliver's pocket squares. She pulls the drawstring ribbon tighter at her waist and laughs at herself. "What doesn't remind you of Oliver?" She turns down the bed, fluffs the pillows, and slips into the cool, welcoming sheets.

"To sleep perchance to dream? Uhm, Shakespeare. But not quite what Hamlet meant. Oh Oliver, what have you done to me?" With her head resting on the pillow a still smiling Shane McInerney drifts to sleep to dream of him.


	4. Chapter 4 Love Does Not Boast

**TUESDAY: Love Does Not Boast**

Noise. Clinking china cups onto saucers, pouring hot water onto tea bags, clicking shoes on sidewalks, honking horns, humming cars, chattering voices, buzzing cell phones – Tuesday is full – full of sounds of things that move and people that hope.

Shane is a woman on the move and full of hope. Rita goes her way for a dress fitting and the guys go their way for a tuxedo fitting. She is glad that everyone has his or her own agenda. She certainly has her own covert operation. Realizing that she cannot get Ardis physically present in time for the wedding her creative mind spins of web of delightful deception. She concludes she will rely on the marriage of technology and the building skills of two good men to make this hope a reality.

"I need help and I know just where to turn."

Walking down the sidewalk toward her car on this brisk afternoon in Denver, Shane is once again amazed by Rita.

"Memory – Rita's amazing memory. She doesn't need computer skills. Her brain is a computer. Rita connects the dots and we have already solved the identity of the true recipient of the dress. And tomorrow the dress will be gone."

The dress will be gone. That is a bittersweet confession for Shane. She chooses to shake off the thought and focus on the mission at hand.

"I can't think about that right now."

The drive out to the farm is a good half hour or more but she doesn't mind. She bites her bottom lip as she wonders if the men will think her idea is too silly. Much to her delight they enthusiastically embrace her surprise. The three spend the entire afternoon functioning as an engineering team designing the perfect contraption for Norman's bachelor party. They even go to the hardware store together.

"Feathers?" asks Joe.

"Why do we need feathers?" asks Bill.

"To make it festive!" declares Shane.

"Well I hate to be the one to tell you but we won't find feathers at the hardware store," says Joe.

"No, but they will have them at the hobby shop next door," says Shane with grin.

In this new trio of friendship each has a role to play beyond the obvious. Beyond creative director, Shane is also catalyst and listener.

"Bill, you won't believe what your daughter's incredible mind recalled to solve our latest mystery," begins Shane. Shane tells the men of the dress and of how it is Rita who knew which tea room carried what tea and of how a mere glimpse at a book cover is recalled and becomes the key to the owner's identity.

She does not mention that Rita was completely lost as to how to locate Ardis or that it was she who uncovered the hidden name of Annaliese in the dress. She does not speak of the thoughtful and financially sacrificial girls' night that she has planned

"Bill, I just love Rita. She is the sweetest person. And her recall really is amazing. What was she like as a child?" And with that inquiry a father grieving the loss of his wife gets to share happy memories. He gets to talk about Sunny and her relationship with Rita to two people willing and glad to listen. He gets to share stories about someone who has passed from this present life but who has not passed from his heart without feeling awkward.

"Yeah, we really caught on when she was in the second grade. We got a call from the principal," said Bill.

"They thought she was a genius I bet," said Shane with a big smile.

"No, they thought she was disrespectful."

"What? Not Rita."

"Well it seems some kid had answered a question and the teacher said the kid was wrong. Rita burst out with a page number and a direct quote from their little Social Studies book siding with the other kid. She wound up in the office."

"That's awful. What did you do?"

"Well, we made Rita tell the teacher that she was sorry that she did not mean to show any disrespect and then we pulled her out of school," chuckled Bill. "Oh, it was late in the year anyway and Sunny and I wanted to take a road trip to Olympic Park – in Washington. Sunny wanted to protest development in the area and I wanted to see the park. Rita loved it. By the time school started we were back and she was in a different school."

Bill's grief over the loss of his beloved Sunny is being momentarily eased. She thinks these stories even help the best supporting actor, Joe, who has his own set of losses to redeem. Joe can relate to Bill in ways that a young woman who has not lost a spouse – through death or divorce – cannot.

Joe's kindness and compassion toward Bill are evident in the way he listens and in his empathetic responses. "It's easy to see how Oliver became such a caring man," Shane thinks as they spend the afternoon together.

She is grateful the two men not only accept her idea but also enthusiastically make it a reality. She is particularly grateful that they accept her – that Joe accepts her.

Between sawing, hammering and painting, and planning Shane extols the virtues of Norman – his goodness, his kindness, his achievements in science of mail recovery, which he never brags about. She brags on the men – their workmanship and ingenuity. She repeatedly thanks them for making this project a reality. She affirms everyone except herself - and Oliver. One time she starts to say something about Oliver and her eyes begin to well with tears – tears of affection. All she gets out softly is "Oliver…is… wonderful." Joe notices.

The trio reaches a point where her skills are no longer needed and she leaves for the day. Unlike her plan to buy the dress, her latest plan is not uncovered. Driving home she laughs as she thinks back on the stories the two men shared.

It is late and the night is dark. She is glad that every light has been green going home. Green lights – after the story she heard yesterday she may never think of green the same way again – ever. Recalling the tale of ugly green tie proposals makes her laugh – laugh aloud in a car filled with no one but herself. She raises the volume on her XM radio and scans over to stop on the dulcet tones of Sinatra. It just feels like Oliver.

 _And the torment won't be through til I spend my whole life making love to you day and night, night and day._

As much as she wants to believe that he loves her, hearing him say it would be wonderful. He has yet to say it. "And I love you so much," she catches herself saying as makes a right turn. It's just a little dream in the night

As she continues her drive the solitude of the long empty road frees her to her own wandering thoughts. Learning that he never proposed to Holly nor did they have an actual wedding is as much a surprise as the proposal story itself. They have never discussed his marriage to Holly other than how she left him. This is the woman who carelessly broke the heart of the man she loves. She rarely thinks of her but when she does she feels strangely protective of Oliver. She remembers walking into the DLO and finding her there – a stunning, voluptuous, presumptuous, redhead. "Oliver accepts a marriage proposal from a woman he hardly knew and then marries her three hours later. No wonder he is in caution overdrive. He must have been incredibly lost and lonely at the time to do such a thing so out of character." Driving along this dark night Shane does not judge the error. She only hurts for him.

 _Love and marriage, love and marriage, they go together like a horse and carriage. This I tell you brother, you can't have one without the other._

She hopes she isn't being selfish or petty but she is glad Oliver never proposed to another woman. She likes the thought that one day he may propose to her and it will be something that will not be tainted by the memory of Holly.

"I may have to buy him an ugly green tie for every occasion until he pops the question though," she mumbles. "A proposal from Oliver O'Toole! Not happening any time soon. We may qualify for the senior citizen discount on marriage licenses before Oliver proposes to me but still…." She chuckles at the idea.

 _But why should I try to resist when, baby, I know well I've got you under my skin?_

As much as she tries not to allow her dreams to rush there she can't help herself..

"I wonder if he does ever propose – will he – propose at the porch swing – at the DLO – at Montaldo's. OH GOODNESS, not Montaldo's. The waiter might drop a tray on his head when gets down on one knee or something."

Arriving at her house as she parks her car she is certain of one thing. If they ever get married – he will do the asking – and the wedding won't be three hours later at a courthouse.

 _You are all I long for, all I worship and adore, in other words, please be true, in other words, I love you._

Before she unlocks her door she stops to look at the porch swing – his first gift to her. It really did mean something. It was his first tangible expression of care for her after ending his sham of a marriage. She thinks about the time they first shared that swing together and wishes he was with her now. They have not had any time for just each other the last couple of days and it doesn't look as if they will any time soon.

She glances across the street to her dear friend's house then turns back to unlock the door. "How many ways can a person say I love you without saying I love you? If you don't have love you're just sounding brass or a clanging cymbal – a bunch of noise. Right, Jewell?

Footnote:I needed some help from Frank Sinatra to write about Tuesday. The lyrics from four songs he sang are in italics. The incomparable Cole Porter wrote _Night and Day_ and _I've Got You_ _Under My Skin_. Sammy Cahn wrote the lighthearted lyrics to _Love and Marriage._ Bart Howard is the writer for _Fly Me to the Moon_ , the last lyrics included. I hope you enjoy Tuesday's musings.


	5. Chapter 5 Love Keeps No Record of Wrong

**Wednesday: Love Keeps No Record Of Wrongs**

Becoming emotionally invested in the delivery of a package can take its toll. The workday ends but you bring it home with you – emotionally anyway. Today was such a day.

Of course she offered to find Jessica's mother. Making something good out of this - isn't that what Postables do? What did Oliver think she would do? Truth be told, isn't it the wounded who often seek to become healers of the hurting?

Tonight Shane enters her house and goes straight to her bedroom. She sits down on the side of her bed and opens the bottom drawer of her bedside table. She hasn't even removed her coat.

The small drawer is filled with cards, a few old photos, and a couple of yellowed newspaper clippings. Carefully placed on top of it all is a handmade card with a slightly crooked heart on the front. She holds it in her hands – gently following the outline of the heart with her fingertip. She cannot resist reading the note inside – one which she now has memorized. That night at Montaldo's may have been a disaster but oh what it began. She gently places it on the pillow beside her and continues to look through the drawer. Tonight this special valentine is not the card for which she searches. On the very bottom of the drawer in the back left hand corner is the buried card. It is a birthday card - one that was miraculously delivered to her by none other than Rita herself.

Shane opens the card. Her eyes are dry.

She remembers how Jessica began her story. "My father left when I was just a baby." A girl who loses her father should not also lose her mother.

One Christmas when Shane is ten years of age her father walks out the door of their home and basically walks out of her life. He promises to come for her birthday but all she ever gets is a card and some cash – a card she always tosses in the trash – until this one. She cannot help but think of all the times she hoped he would come, thought she heard him coming in the door only to find she was wrong.

She wonders how many times Jessica heard a door open and looked to see if it was her mother. How many times did she run to window thinking she heard her daddy's car only to find it was no one – no one at all?

She thinks about the first time she tells Oliver anything about her dad. Oliver tells her about him is more like it. She has been on the job less than a week. Over a couple of drinks at the old Mailbox Grill he confesses that his wife left for Paris two years ago and he has not heard from her since. Shane coaxes him into dancing. While dancing she has challenged him as to why he eschewed technology postulating that his disdain was merely an excuse not to locate his wayward wife. With no small amount of sarcasm he met the challenge and raised her one almost taunting her as to why she feared opening a birthday card from daddy with a twenty in it. He hit the nail on the head without even realizing the impact of the blow. But then he saw her pain. After all this time she suddenly thinks of how he drew her closer to him bringing her hand to his chest as he slowed their dance.

Before she realizes she is bringing her closed fist to her own chest and stares at nothing. She thinks of how she can still feel his lapel and his hand clasping hers as he stops dancing. She is grateful for his strength and his sensitivity.

But Oliver is not with her tonight. She must walk through this moment alone.

Questions, so many questions. Here sits a grown woman feeling a like a ten year old girl again. "Why did you leave? Did I do something terrible? Couldn't you love me enough to stay?" Sure, as an adult her mind knows better. But once in while when the day has been too long, or the topic hit too close, in a blink she is ten again.

But tonight, this night, after listening to Jessica she chooses not to cleave to the painful memory of his absence but to the memories of his presence. She thinks of a time when her dad took her places. Their Sundays are not for tearooms. They are for games and ice cream. Sunday afternoon in Alexandria is their time. They usually play a board game or even an early computer game. He teaches her everything from Candy Land to cards. They once went to an arcade and played Pac Man and ate cotton candy. Most Sundays he would take her for ice cream – just the two them. She remembers the first time she tasted coffee ice cream – with nuts and chocolate syrup. Her eyes are no longer dry. Maybe that's why it hurts so much when he stops.

She has a choice to make. She can either keep a record of those good memories or cling to the fact he stopped. Tonight she chooses to remember, to hold dear those good Sunday afternoons, and to consider that perhaps it hurt him as much as it did her when they ended.

She thinks about Jessica and her own theory that Jessica's mother was present for the wedding after all. Somehow, somewhere Annaliese has seen her daughter. Shane is certain of it. She wonders if her dad ever slipped into a room to see her, to see her graduate, or compete. Tonight she will read the card he sent her that last birthday and believe he meant every word.

Keeping a record of wrong will serve no purpose. It is too heavy a load to carry. If there is anything left that she has not forgiven – a grudge left to hold - it is time to hand it over.

Shane accepts that there are questions to which she will never have answers. But with the help of God and the US Post office Jessica will get some answers. Of course they can find her mother. They will find Annaliese and arrange a meeting and they will reconcile. And maybe, just maybe, one less little girl will be left holding a birthday card or even a wedding dress in place of her parent's hand.

Tonight Shane returns the final card from her daddy to the drawer. Only this time it is not relegated to the back corner of the drawer. The only card placed on top of it is a long awaited dinner invitation from Oliver.

Some nights when Shane misses Oliver her heart is filled with notions of romance. Tonight as she crawls into bed, she wishes he was there and she could simply rest her head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat.

"Silly notion. At least he can't read my mind – from my house anyway. He wasn't really happy with me today. But I think he came around. I'll start searching for Annaliese first thing in the morning and tomorrow night is the big party. Everything will be fine."

Tonight she must sleep. Tomorrow is another big day. Determination – perseverance will be her words for tomorrow.


	6. Chapter 6: Love Rejoices in the Truth

Dear readers, From the perspective of TTA Shane was not the one struggling with pretty much anything. She seemed to be at great peace and act with confidence throughout the movie. At the end of the day I think she went home and slept well. However, I think the pressure peaked on Thursday night. Oliver was curt with her at the DLO and distant at the party. It is clear that Oliver is deeply contemplative and whatever the matter seems to be separating them to a certain degree. Then the truth about Annaliese was far from what she expected. With that in mind, I offer you a struggling Shane on Thursday night. Thank you again for reading.

 **Thursday: Love Rejoices With The Truth**

Maybe it's time to come home. It is certainly time for Shane to come home. So much transpired today. She sits on her couch with her legs tucked underneath her absentmindedly playing with the pendant hanging from her necklace. It is almost midnight yet she is lost in thoughts of the day. The glass of wine she poured for herself is now empty.

You never know what some people endure – what forfeiture is made to shield those they love. Shane began the day looking for perhaps an activist or even an undercover agent of some sort. The mysterious absence would have some extraordinary explanation in which the absentee mother sacrificed for some incredible cause – protecting the country or saving the world. And then along comes the true story. Mental illness – homelessness - none were a part of Shane's scenario.

Shane thinks about the heartbreaking anguish and shame that this elegant woman carried much of her adult life – her struggle just to function. She would live on the streets, go hungry, before she would risk being a threat to her daughter – risk destroying an illusion of purpose.

She thinks about a daughter losing all that time with her mother and not knowing the truth of her mother's whereabouts. It is so painful to wait for someone who does not come. The story is sad – tragic.

Shane knows the decision to visit Jessica tomorrow and seek to reconcile the two women is the right one; however, it is a visit she does not relish in making. There is a new question now. Will Jessica's love for Annaliese be strong enough to bear all things that she is about to learn? How much will Jessica believe and hope for in this situation?

Mechanically she stands and walks into her bedroom to begin her nightly routine.

She knows the pain of being too late to reconcile. She also knows the path to reconciliation even when taken in time is not easy. She thinks about the struggles that kept her from her sister and tore at her own family. She is glad that she and Alex are talking again. For the first time she wonders if Alex's problems are more complicated than she has allowed herself to consider. She thinks of her own mother's love for her broken child and the sacrifices that she made. This is love – steadfast and unconditional.

A steadfast love is strong and even imbues the recipient with strength. She drifts to happier thoughts of how Oliver was with her that night she called Alex – how he looked – how he reached for her hand – how he said "tell her you have a boyfriend." Oh how she has felt his love – supportive, forbearing. Receiving love from Oliver is easy.

She wishes she felt as close to him now as she did that night in the DLO when she called Alex. Instead he feels at a far greater distance than that which separates their two houses. Tonight he seems to be unreachable.

Suddenly she realizes those are her tears falling on the glass top of her dressing table. She wipes her cheek with her fingertips of her freshly manicured hand. "Where did that come from?" she asks herself. "Crying? There's no crying in baseball or the week of your dear friend's wedding. Enough already." But it seems she cannot stop the tears from slowly falling.

She takes off her jewelry and places her rings and necklace in the tray on the vanity. That moment in the DLO between them seems so far away from tonight. That night he was fully present, intimate. A few more tears slip from her eyes and she isn't even certain why they fall.

She begins to remove the carefully applied makeup. She wants to call Oliver but it is late. She wants to tell him all that she learned about a woman who has gone to great lengths to maintain an illusion. She wants to tell him about this brave sad woman who watched her own daughter get married – watched her from a hotel kitchen window. She wants to tell him that she and Rita are going to tell Jessica tomorrow. She wants to hear him say "Oh my goodness" then offer some wise word on the subject. She wants to hear him say that he will pray for them tomorrow as they go. She wants to hear him say, "I miss you" or "Sleep well" or "Until tomorrow."

Nevertheless, she is not certain he wants to hear from her again tonight. She calls him as soon as she and Rita arrive at the Brown Palace offering to return – to help clean after the party. He kindly refuses her offer. She is hoping for some other word from him – come back and we might have some time together – just the two of us. He does not utter those words. He really is uncomfortable with the bachelor party in spite of her best efforts. She isn't sure they even make eye contact the entire evening. His unease is on full display complete with snide replies at the DLO this morning. He apologetically said he has a lot on his mind. He does seem to enjoy her gentle flirtation. Tonight there are no flirtatious glances, no smiles just between the two of them. They don't even bump shoulders.

All week she focuses on others – what they need, how they feel. Tonight her own emotions and her own wants seek to overwhelm her. Slipping into bed at the end of a long day, she is tired of everything. Sometimes persevering in love is hard.

She tosses and turns.

The day did not begin this way with tears. She tries to focus on the lighter side of her day. She thinks of how excited she and Rita were as they started their girls adventure this afternoon. It seems a lifetime ago. The two arrive at _Mon Amour_ at four o'clock sharp for a scheduled appointment. Rita is stunned. Georgina has filled a large dressing room with things in various colors and styles all within the range of the gift card. Rita has never been in a store where someone knew your size just by looking at you, gave you their undivided attention, offered you something to drink while you made your decision.

Thinking of Rita's face when they walked into that dressing room causes her to smile through her tears. Rita was somewhere between shock and awe. She chooses something a little simpler, less steamy than Shane had envisioned but at least it isn't flannel nor does it have owls on it. Rita will feel beautiful and Norman will cherish her. That's all that matters.

Shane thinks of how Rita embraced her before they left the store. "You have no idea how much this means to me, especially now."

She thinks of how she could not help herself from looking toward the white alcove. The beautiful ensemble that she coveted is vanished. She didn't realize how badly she wanted that for herself until it wasn't there. Tonight its absence makes fun of her dream and haunts her hopes.

Shane is restless. She sits to fluff her pillows. "There, that is better."

The truth is that she envisioned herself in the gown and robe. She and Oliver would be married. It is their first night together - their honeymoon. She steps out of the bathroom of their suite and he is waiting for her. The lights in the room are low. Then like so many moments this past week she tells herself that she is ridiculous – to forget it. She does not want to forget. She wants to fulfill that dream.

But tonight it is a hope and a longing that goes unsatisfied.

The tears flow freely now and she reaches for a tissue.

"Before too long we'll be coming back to shop for you," said Rita as they make their way to the front of the store.

"Oh I don't know about that," said Shane. But deep inside she has a checklist of items in that very store that she wishes to purchase.

But this night - tonight she questions. Tonight she is painfully aware of how much she wants to be Mrs. Oliver O'Toole. Tonight she wishes that when the news has been as draining as today's events that she could lean on him – spiritually and emotionally and physically. The fulfillment of a dream in which she tries not to linger seems further away.

"I have one word – chemistry," said Rita with a chuckle, as she stops to hold up a very tiny nightie.

This affirmation from a friend – this naughty nod offered with a twinkle hours earlier – helps her smile now.

"Chemistry, I wish." She had hoped for a moment tonight just between the two of them. She hoped for a stolen moment alone. She had not bought those black pants and off the shoulder top for a girls night out. She was going to wear the pink dress to Montaldo's – the one Rita likes and always suggests she wear - something she had worn before. No, the black blouse and slacks were not bought for a girls night, they were bought for a night out with Oliver - something for him – something perhaps a little more alluring – something she was saving for a night alone.

Now that he is going to see her – now that girls night at Montaldo's is cancelled to deliver a surprise appearance at the bachelor party - she pulls this new outfit from the closet and hopes for the best. After all something has been bothering him this week and finding her in a wedding dress did not seem to help. Maybe this new look will grab his attention. It is fun, flirty, and black, it is not formal, serious, and white. Maybe just maybe he will think she is beautiful – a little hot - maybe she will make him smile - lose his worries at the sight of her.

She feels foolish thinking about it now.

There was no "you are amazing, you look beautiful." Certainly no "you are mine." He never even looks at her. Yes, the arrival of Ardis Parker Pennington Payne goes without a technological hitch. Yes, the party is a huge success. Yes, she laughed and talked and smiled her way through the evening. But she noticed – his mood – his distance.

She sits up to straighten the covers that she has already twisted into a knot.

She worries that she pushed him on the bachelor party; she pushed on finding Annaliese. Maybe she pushed too far too many times. Or is this mood related to the wedding? Was he lost somewhere in his painful past? Was it her fault for his seeing her in the dress?

She feels a headache coming and messages her neck. That glass of wine wasn't a good idea.

It is well after midnight now. Her thoughts are going in circles. She is tired and now she has a headache. Frustration builds.

Rita and Norman are taking two weeks of vacation after the wedding for their honeymoon and for relocation to a new apartment. It would be just the two of them at the DLO. Life should return to normal. Until then she would do her best not to be self-seeking or easily angered or keep any record of his ill temper or the fact that she wore a new outfit tonight and he did not notice her – at all. She feels childish giving it a second thought.

He is Oliver. He is wonderful. Everyone is entitled to have rough day – well, a rough week.

She gets out of bed and goes to the kitchen for a glass of water. She walks gingerly now as her head throbs with each step. She takes the glass of water and goes back to the sofa – her head aches too much to lie down. She props herself in the corner of the couch and pulls a throw over her outstretched legs. The only light is the slight glow of the street lamp through the window blind.

"Face it McInerny, you are spoiled. Spoiled by Oliver O'Toole. You like walking out the door in the morning and finding him waiting with your coffee. You like the way he looks at you when you walk into a room. You like the way he helps you with your coat. You like flirting with him and watching him squirm. And this week – this week you miss his doting affection – you miss him."

Sitting with eyes closed she thinks about what Jewell said, "You do the hardest part. Wait patiently, lovingly, prayerfully." Jewell would tell her to hand it over in a heartbeat.

Tomorrow she and Rita will visit Jessica. Who knows where things will go from there? She thinks it would be wonderful if the estranged women could reunite at the Brown Palace over tea – work things out.

They have the rehearsal at the church followed by the rehearsal dinner. That should be nice. Oliver always likes being at church and he is in charge of the dinner. He should be comfortable with those plans.

He has been rather quiet all week. She decides the loving thing to do is to listen to his silence, to trust the timing. Deep in her heart she knows she loves him and she believes that he loves her as well. But if this is a difficult time for him; she will be patient. When he is ready to talk she will listen to his words. Until then she will love him in his silence.

It is right. It is good. Love delights in doing that which is right and good and true. Love rejoices in reconciliation of parent and child. Love rejoices. Love perseveres.

As her headache begins to ease she slides down a little further on the sofa. Day will break far too soon. She drifts to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7: Friday: Love Never Fails

Thank you again for all your comments. I appreciate your thoughts and responses very much.

 **Friday: Love Never Fails**

It has been a rough night. Sleep has not come easily. Day breaking through the window wakes Shane earlier than she intended. Her neck is a little stiff from sleeping on the couch. Coffee. Coffee is the answer.

"What if he brings, me a…even if he does I will just have another cup."

Sipping her morning coffee she is haunted by one exchange more than any other. "Norman has found the love of his life….Not everyone can say that." Maybe it is Oliver who can't say that. Oliver tried to talk his way out of it; she gave the loving, perfect response. Was he revealing what was really bothering this week?

Again there is no time for pondering or self-pity. Besides, she will see him soon and have a better understanding of how he is doing now that the bachelor party is finished.

To her disappointment she does not see him first thing this morning. He is not waiting for her with a cup of coffee. He is not at the DLO when she clocks in for work. She thought perhaps he would be there. No, she hoped that he would be there. Before he arrives she and Rita leave. She must focus on the task at hand.

Shane and Rita are two women on a mission, a mission of reconciliation. It is a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky as they reach the picturesque home. Nevertheless, Shane feels a cloud hanging over them as the two women enter the house.

Jessica's response is understandable yet regrettable for Shane. For Rita it is unbearable. Shane's heart breaks not only for Jessica but also for Rita as she articulates how being too late truly feels. Rita has gone forward with wedding plans so bravely unaccompanied by her mother. Rita's companion is grief's ever-present shadow. Already starting the day with too little sleep and missing Oliver more than she wants to acknowledge, Shane finds tears come far too readily.

Shane thinks of the shy ingénue wearing an apron that they met at the DLO when she first came to Denver. She has not been replaced; she has flourished. Every lovely aspect of Rita has bloomed like the proverbial flower. She is still humble and kind and brilliant. But it is magnified. The bravery and humble boldness she wrote about in Renita Hayweather Frontier Duchess is now incarnated in her.

The women leave with the first part of their mission accomplished. Rita uses Shane's phone to call the DLO and alert the men to meet them at the Brown Palace. As the two women drive to the hotel Shane wonders what contemplative mood Oliver may be in today. She hopes this reunion will bolster his spirits and affirm his divine delivery theory.

"Be patient, be kind, be understanding," she tells herself. "Get through the wedding. Next week things will go back to normal and you will have ample opportunity to talk."

The practice of patience, kindness, and gentleness really isn't difficult where Oliver is concerned unless fear steps into her heart. It is only the spirit fear – the fear of losing him – that makes it difficult. A lack of sleep doesn't help.

As soon as she sees him in the lobby and they exchange their hellos she realizes that he is still guarded – quiet. But they have a reunion ahead of them – others on which to focus. This is the Postables doing what the Postables do.

With introduction made, Annaliese is escorted to her daughter. Shane instinctively takes Oliver's arm. "Did he offer or did I just take?" she briefly questions her action. "Oh well." But then she looks across the room and sees Jessica – in the dress. She smiles. Jessica is beautiful. The reunion is deeply moving.

And to think that this is in part the result of her wanting that dress – that the letter is found – that mother and daughter reunite. She isn't disappointed about not getting the dress that she wanted. She isn't even focused on the moment Oliver found her wearing it. She is lost in the satisfaction of what is before her – a divine delivery, a job well done. Once again the Postables deliver more than lost letters or lost packages. They deliver hope and second chances.

Leaving the tearoom she is perfectly content. It is as if every divine delivery they have made together binds into one. It is enough that Oliver is by her side. It is enough that Rita and Norman are instrumental in this party of four. She is proud of their work together. The words just roll off her tongue like butter. "I love us."

Everything stops. She and Oliver don't just stop walking - time stops. Once again in this contemplative, crazy week Oliver does something completely unexpected. If his buttoning that dress caused her to gasp this may cause her stop breathing all together. She is stunned. Her face flushes.

She joyfully confesses her love for "us" and he raises her one. "And I love…I love you." She knows there are other people in this room. But all she knows is him. She is sure other people are talking all around her but all she can hear is him saying "and I love…I love you."

Definition of us: four DLO employees known as Oliver, Shane, Norman and Rita

Definition of you, singular: Shane McInerney

He looks simultaneously proud of himself and cautious. You can see it in those expressive eyes. He even takes back a little protective control of the moment. "And I'm still contemplating what to do about it." He is like a little boy who punches her in the arm and waits to see if she will punch back.

The adoration in her eyes reveals her feelings – if he had any doubt. These are the words she delights in hearing. Finally she gets to deliver the words her heart bursts to say. "I see. Does it help if I mention that I love you so…."

These are words she has said in a thousand different ways on a thousand different levels. She respected and affirmed him as her colleague; she encouraged him and was steadfast as his friend; now she declares that she loves him uniquely as no other.

She is sure Norman said something about skunks. But he said, I love you. She continues to look at him. Her eyes will his heart to receive her words, her true words. If the world would stop she could relish the moment and let his words continue to envelop her. She does not want to turn away.

Yes, there is another wedding crisis - another dilemma. The foursome must regroup – change plans - again. The talking continues but she is lost in his eyes. Her pull on him is so strong in the moment that he doesn't know where to focus - first to her, then to them, then to her again. Finally it is as if the reality of the dilemma shakes her by the shoulders – snap out of it – SKUNKS!

"Norman, what are we going to do? First it was the flowers, then the minister, now the church!" says Rita.

"We are going to do something. I'm not sure what exactly but we are going to do something," replies Norman.

"Think Norman, think!" Rita pleads.

"It is going to be difficult to secure a public venue this late on a Friday," Oliver says, looking at his watch. "Norman, do you have a cousin with connections to a location or a large open room perhaps?"

"No. The largest space most of my cousins have access to aren't places you want to get married."

"Large space! That's it! The barn! We can have it in the barn!" says Rita.

"The barn?" questions Norman.

"Yes, at the farm," confirms Rita.

Still focused on Oliver, Shane answers Rita and Norman's panic. "That's a great idea."

She is perfectly calm. Her voice is soft. "Don't worry," Shane says beaming. "It will all work out." Rita and Norman assume that comment is meant for them.

Oliver returns her smile.

"We need to call the florist, notify the guests," continues Rita in overdrive.

"The guests. Who's going to tell the cow?" Norman responds.

"I'll Google and see how to get what we need. We can work together to notify everyone. It will be fine." Shane the planner kicks into gear.

As they drive out to the farm Shane may be on her way to recreate a barn into a wedding venue but her mind is still back in the lobby of the Brown Palace. Of all the ways and places she thought - dreamed – hoped - that he would say those three words, a spontaneous declaration in the Brown Palace on this day was not one of them. It matters not. The only thing that matters is that he has put into words that he loves her. It is a barrier broken. It is a step of faith she longed to make. She joins him there.

The rest of the day is a rush of activity. They hurry and scurry but she is moving in a golden haze. Even when they don't physically touch she feels connected to him. It is like a grand dance. She can't take her eyes off him; she does not stop smiling. He does not leave her side. Laughter comes easily.

He lowers her from a ladder and the touch of his hands on her waist feels somehow new and thrilling. He is close enough for her to feel his breath on her face. She has to remind herself that there are other people in the room. He brushes her hand to help her hang lights and she wants nothing more than to hold that hand and never let go. She is surprised by how comfortable they are with each other.

Perhaps it is the lack of sleep or the sheer emotional roller coaster of the week. It could be the thrill of his saying "I love you." She is all the more vulnerable to him.

A bolt of white tulle, a few strands of twinkle lights, chairs, and a makeshift arbor from two old ladders – the transformation is almost complete. With the help of Joe and Bill the crew of six transforms a barn into a wedding venue. The men go to pick up a couple of tables giving Rita and Shane a chance to stop for a few minutes.

In the corner of the loft they spread a blanket on some hay and collapse.

"Rita Haywith, you are remarkable," declares Shane.

"Aw, I don't feel remarkable. I feel exhausted," said Rita with a chuckle.

"No, you are. What you said to Jessica today took real strength. You were wise and kind and true. The way you handle love and loss and planning a wedding and re-planning a wedding. You are remarkable. I am proud to be your maid of honor."

"Oh Shane," says Rita as she reaches for Shane's hand.

"Having you as a friend has made it so much easier. So much changed after you came. You have been a divine delivery for us all," said Rita.

"I'm pretty sure it was mutual," said Shane with a smile.

"And I'm sure that something's different," said Rita.

"I hope so. After all this work this barn is transformed into your new, beautiful, wedding venue."

"No, with you. You and Oliver."

"You think?"

"Oh I'm sure of it. You two can't keep from smiling at each other."

The two women giggle.

"Oliver... Oliver told me that he loved me today."

"Shane."

"We were leaving the tearoom. I'm not sure he meant to say it when he did. But when he does say something he means it."

"Absolutely. And what did you say?"

"I told him I would give it some thought."

"SHANE"

Shane cannot help from laughing. "No, I was in the middle of saying I love you so much when someone said the word "skunks."

"Ou. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Don't worry about it. You were the one who lost her church 24 hours before the wedding. I think he got the point."

Rita leans into Shane and whispers, "Like I said, we will be going shopping for you soon."

Shane shakes her head and smiles.

"What did you say to me once about curling Norman's cummerbund. You will buy something to curl Oliver's cummerbund."

"Rita Haywith! What has come over you?"

"Exhaustion."

They both laugh.

"Nerves," says Rita quietly. Shane grips her hand.

"Oh the guys are back." The two women rise from the blanket to finish the task of barn transformation.

Today still ends without that stolen moment - no passionate kiss, no warm embrace. There is only the squeeze of her hand just before she leaves. But that is enough. That is more than enough because of his words – I love you. They will carry her home and hold her until he does.

"I will see you tomorrow," says Shane.

"Tomorrow," says Oliver. His eyes and gentle smile say so much more.

She will sleep well tonight.


	8. Chapter 8: The Greatest of These

As with the first two days in this series, Friday and Saturday follow Shane throughout her day. I brought Jewell back into the story for Saturday. All of the other characters belong to the incomparable Martha Williamson. Within the portion on the wedding ceremony there is a paragraph in italics. It relies on or is a play on the words spoken in the movie. Those with frequent viewer miles will recognize them. The very last phrase is a little cheesy but I just couldn't resist. Thank you again for all of your comments. It helps to know what strikes a chord.

 **Saturday: The Greatest of These**

Shane wakes to heavy rain falling outside on this December morning. "And I love….I love you." Words spoken yesterday echo in her memory and put a smile on her face even before she opens her eyes. Yesterday was such a beautiful day. She hopes there will be a reprieve from the weather for the sake of bride and groom. Flooding would be the final blow after all Rita and Norman have been through.

Today feels fresh and new buoyed by love. She decides it is a great morning to preheat the oven and do some baking – homemade banana nut muffins. What more can you do when the morning is cool and the bananas are too ripe? No green blended, protein added smoothie would be made today.

Saturday chores are Saturday chores even when you have a wedding to attend. Shane collects her laundry – separating colors and delicates – and begins to wash clothes. The living room needs dusting. As she works the house fills with the aroma of muffins.

The rain slows to a mist. It is the perfect time to deliver a few muffins to Jewell. Besides, it will give her an excuse to tell her about Oliver. She slips on her raincoat and a pair of tennis shoes and runs across the street.

Bouncing up the steps Shane knocks on the door only to be met by someone other than Jewell.

"Oh, good morning, I'm Shane McInerney. I live across the street. Is Jewell home?"

"Yes, please come in. I'm Jewell's daughter.

A slender younger version of Jewell stands before her. The very attractive woman wears slim cut jeans, ballet flats, a loose golden brown cashmere sweater, and gold earrings. Her short haircut accentuates her big brown eyes.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard…" begins Shane.

"Is that June Bug?" The voice calls from somewhere down the hallway.

"Momma, it's Ms. McInerney,"

"Then that's June Bug," the aged voice replies.

"Oh I'm sorry. Come on back. Momma and her nick names."

"No, it's fine," replies Shane.

The two women make their way down the short hall to Jewell's bedroom. Shane is taken aback to find Jewell in bed propped on several pillows. She looks frail lying there; her usually bright eyes seem weary.

"Come here and sit by me. My daughter thought if she came over she could pester me into getting up. She was wrong," says Jewell.

"Momma hasn't been feeling well. I've tried to get her to go the doctor. She won't listen. Maybe Ms. McInerney can convince you."

"I have a doctor. She even makes house calls and doesn't charge. Uhm, I just need some rest. I think I've earned the right to be tired," Jewell says.

"I brought you some muffins. I made them this morning. They don't compare to your cookies but they're - edible," Shane says, changing the subject.

"That's so nice. They even smell good. Would you take these to the kitchen?" Jewell says, directing her comment to her daughter. "Shane and I would like to talk."

"Yes momma." The respectful daughter takes the muffins and gives Shane a knowing smile.

"I thought she would never leave. She just hovers. Now what's on your mind? Is that handsome young man still worrying you?

"No he is not. I wanted you to know – I wanted you to know that yesterday Oliver told me that he loves me."

"I see. That explains the brightness of your smile this morning. And what did you say?"

"I told him I loved him."

"Good. Now what's he going do about it?"

"He said he's still contemplating that."

"Oh, he's praying about it then."

"I guess he is."

"A good man prayers about things. So does a good woman. _In all things with prayer and thanksgiving make your requests known to God?"_ I suspect you have some requests you are making to the good Lord."

"Thanks to you, I've been making a lot of requests to God lately."

"Don't forget the with thanksgiving part. There is always something to be thankful for. You know I'm thankful for you."

"Oh Jewell, I'm the one to be thankful. I couldn't have made it without you."

"You are going to have to bring that good man by to meet me one day."

"I will."

"Shane, I want you to bring him soon."

"Of course. We can come one day next week. Rita is getting married in a few hours and I have to go. I just wanted to stop by. But I will bring him by very soon. Jewell, you will like him. He knows a great deal more about the Bible than I do."

"Oh we will have a delightful time then," said Jewell.

Jewell reaches for Shane's hand. Her porcelain skin seemed so very young and tender as it is clasped in the older woman's time worn hands.

"Shane, one more thing."

"Yes Jewell."

"I love you."

Shane reached down and slid her arms around the old woman's shoulders, lifting her slightly off her pillows.

"I love you too."

"No you go on. Tell that daughter of mine I think I want one of those muffins."

"I sure will."

Shane makes her way out the door, tears rolling down her cheeks as she returns home. To be loved by someone older and wiser who loves you enough to speak the truth in kindness is a wonderful gift. Images of people she never knew before coming to Denver who love her and love her well fill her thoughts.

"Make your requests known with thanksgiving…." Shane is so grateful. She makes her way to her room with all intentions of getting ready for the big day. She sits on the edge of her bed and takes off the tennis shoes she wore to Jewell's. But that is as far as she gets. The side of the bed isn't far to the floor and it is there she goes on bended knees.

"God, my heart is so full of gratitude that before I go any further this day, I want to thank you. Thank you for Jewell and her loving guidance in my life. Thank you for the people like Hazel and Ramon who knowing them has added even more fun and laughter to my life. God, bless them both. Thank you for Joe, especially that he and Oliver found each other again. Thank you for this crazy wonderful family here in Denver – for Rita and Norman – who have become brother and sister to me. And thank you so much for Oliver. I don't know where to begin. I never dreamed of being loved by someone like him. I never knew anyone like him. He tells me that he is contemplating what to do next. I'm not really sure what that means. Help me to wait patiently and lovingly. God, now I have to get ready."

Now she has to hurry. There is no time to waste. The maid of honor should not be late.

The drive out to farm is a rainy one. Mud puddles beneath her feet and rolling gray clouds overhead fail to dampen her mood or the spirits of those gathered.

Given Rita's parents' spirit of adventure, knack for abandoning tradition, and embracing the unusual, the daughter of Bilbo and Sunny holding a wedding in a barn isn't that extraordinary. Seeing Rita standing there in the perfectly fitted postage stamp of wedding dress, Shane is elated for all this day holds for her dear friend. If anyone deserves an Evelyn Rose gown it is she. And Rita is beautiful.

Now that Oliver has said those three important words she allows herself briefly to think they are closer to having such a day for themselves – hopefully not in a barn. Maybe in the coming year he will ask her to be his wife. She reigns in her thoughts. "Don't rush to judgment. It has only been 24 hours since he said I love you and you're already walking down the aisle. Weddings have a way of doing that to people."

The two have not spoken or seen each other since last night. She looks forward to seeing him, to dancing together, finally to sharing a moment alone. She loves the way he looks in a tux – especially that black bow tie. She brushes the skirt of her dress and thinks about another red formal gown. It was her first Christmas in Denver and the Postal Ball. They both were frozen by painful pasts, struggling to figure out their dance of life.

She loves the thought of dancing with him. It was while practicing a dance routine in the DLO that he first caused her heart to skip a beat. He was pulling her out of a dip and their eyes met scaring them both. "If he wants to dip me tonight that will be just fine." She catches herself giving a little twirl in her dress. "Shane McInerney, behave yourself." She chuckles at herself.

She cannot help but smile. There is no one around to question the reason. She is alone for a few minutes, before a wedding, before dancing with him, before being held in his arms. At the end of this chaotic week there is nowhere else she would rather be. The word for the moment is "anticipation."

The music begins and that is her cue. Last minute check hair and makeup. Get bouquet. Get the bride. GO.

Gabe sings her around the corner and down the aisle. Everything is just perfect. Her thoughts are filled with the goodness of this moment.

If her eyes could speak…. "Alright, here I go. Hi Hazel. Doesn't Ramon look handsome? There's Oliver."

Yes, she makes brief eye contact with him. Her smile involuntarily widens.

Reaching her destination she looks to Norman conveying her joy as much as a smile can. "Oh sweet Norman. You and Rita deserve each other."

And he is there – Oliver - standing there – just across from her. Without a word her face communicates her delight. "Hi. Isn't everything beauti…WHAT THE SAM HILL!"

Those expressive eyes pop. She notices the tie. He notices that she notices and then she notices that he notices that she notices.

He smiles.

Shock. Shane McInerney is shocked.

"Snap out of it. Rita is coming down the aisle. But it's the tie. It's the ugly green tie. It has to be. Wait. Norman could have chosen it. No. Yes. No."

Her thoughts are like whirled peas.

"Baby I'm going to be there whenever you call."

"It must be THE TIE but get your mind on this ceremony, maid of honor," she prompts herself. It is all too wonderful.

The lens through which she views this ceremony now changes. She is no longer just the supportive maid of honor; she may be the next bride. This is no longer a story about someone else. This isn't just about the love of Norman and Rita. It is the story of everyone who truly makes that life long commitment. Her heart affirms every statement made during this sacred service.

 _Shane McInereny found herself in Denver and found love. She found the love of friends who now feel like family. She found the love of a man – a man of faith – unlike any man she has ever known. She even found the love of God. It has been a thrilling journey. They already keep each other afloat. They rejoice with each other and honor each other. And what they have found is a gift from God._

The ceremony concludes with a sacred kiss and the applause of friends. He offers his arm to escort her from the altar and against her better judgment she asks, "Are you wearing what I think you're wearing?" He does not answer! They turn the corner behind the screen and interrupt a post-wedding kiss between the bride and groom. Hugs and words of affirmation are exchanged and before she knows it the reception is underway.

There is talking and laughing and eating and dancing – with everyone except him. There are professional photos and selfies with everyone; but not one picture of just the two of them.

She knows that he would not even answer her question. She knows that her thoughts have run ahead of the moment. But she cannot believe that he would tease her about this. His face does not imply a joke. She keeps her thoughts in check. But the longer the reception goes the more nervous she becomes. She goes to the bathroom they decorated off the barn office for a moment alone.

"Breathe. Settle down. It is a tie. It is not a proposal. He could say that he is merely contemplating the possibility. Don't count your chickens before they hatch - especially in a barn." A splash of cold water and a little makeup refresher and she is good to go.

She returns to the party and already the crowd is dwindling. She is calm again. Norman's many cousins and Rita's many friends wish them well and make their exits. Bill and Joe disappear. Their exit may have something to do with a cigar and a beer. She realizes that she and Oliver have spent very little time together – almost as if he is avoiding her – again. The last of the guests leave. And as he has several times this week already, he just appears, right there behind her, with her coat.

"Would you like to go outside and give Rita and Norman a moment a alone?"

He helps her with her coat. She wants to lean back into his arms. Instead he steps ahead and opens the heavy door.

The air is cold and damp. It is the kind of night that when you step outside you automatically shiver a little. His arm provides a shield from the night air. And then he turns to face her and takes her hands. From this point on it could have been snowing and she would not notice. She sees only him.

"Don't look at my tie, but look at my eyes and listen to my heart."

She knows what is coming. She was told the story. She is overwhelmed by what takes place before her. She is overwhelmed because she listens to his heart and hears it only calling to her. She listens.

Truth be told she has listened to his heart from the first day they met. She heard its sorrow - being abandoned in a postal museum. She heard what gave it a sense of purpose – delivering lost letters. She heard what it needed – reconciliation with his dad. She heard what made it hope and sing – faith. Oh she had long listened to his heart and loved and cared for every beat.

As if asking were not enough, he goes down on his knees. He humbles himself to honor her and she feels unworthy. Already there is an oneness between them that makes this right. If he falls she would fall with him; should he rise they rise together. He wears a tie he would not deign to purchase – except for her. It is almost more than she can bear. Laugher comes from her acknowledging that he would do the ridiculous for her. She sees the fear and the hope and the love in his eyes. She knows not only the story of this ugly green tie but she knows the story of the man himself. Every woman who truly mattered has broken his heart. Yet he dares to love – to love her – to offer her his heart forever.

This is not an offer with an expiration date. No one night stand – no "as long as it is easy" – no "until I get restless." She will not wake one Christmas and find that he has walked out the door and taken her joy and her faith with him. This is a promise to love her forever. It is true and genuine because he is true and genuine.

There can be only one response. "Yes, yes I will marry you and love you forever."

As if his proposal were not enough, he produces a ring and not any ring - the ring that belonged to his grandmother.

"She was the finest woman I ever knew – until I met you."

She trembles. She trembles not from fear or from the cold. Her body cannot physically contain all that she feels right now. To be overwhelmed by love is one of life's greatest joys.

She looks at him – this wonderful, handsome, incredible, good man.

Taking him by his tie she pulls him to her. This is the moment sealed with a kiss. The fervor of her kiss expresses her heart's desire. Being held by him, holding on to him, sharing desire is their own private celebration. It is an eruption of affection and laughter and joy. Other's who may be waiting or wondering are forgotten for this moment belongs to them and to them alone. There will be a toast and more words of affirmation and affection. There will be dancing and more laughter. But this is their time.

The evening draws its logical conclusion. A giddy bride and proud groom drive away. The supportive best man and maid of honor along with a watery-eyed dad and Joe see the newly married couple on their way – RV, canoe, and all.

Joe takes Shane by the hands and kisses her on the cheek. "And you will be next." She can do nothing but laugh with joy. "And I could not be happier," Joe adds.

"Oh Joe." She chokes back the tears. "Neither could I."

Oliver walks up as Bill watches his only child drive away.

"He is a good man. She is in good hands," says Oliver.

"I know. I know," says Bill, never taking his eyes off the ever-dimming taillight.

"Ollie, I'm gone," says Joe, hugging his son. "I love you and I'm really happy for you."

"And I am so grateful," replies Oliver, not letting go of his dad. "See you tomorrow?"

"Sure, call me." Joe climbs into his truck and pulls away.

Only two remain.

"Well Ms. McInerney, we have a dilemma."

"Oh we do. And what would that be?" replies a surprised Shane.

He closes the gap between them with his every step.

"We did not arrive together and there are two automobiles."

"And how good sir is that a dilemma?"

"It is very late and we are far from the city. How can I escort my fiancée to her home if she has her own car?"

"Mr. O'Toole, you have a fiancée?"

"Oh yes, Ms. McInerney. I most certainly do."

In a split second all she can think is that man can kiss and that she could get accustomed to it - quickly.

"Shall your fiancée leave her car here, possibly get it tomorrow?" Shane replies, leaning her forhead against his.

"Do you need to search the Internet for an answer?" He says with playful gleam.

"No, just your eyes." She whispers in his ear.

He swallows hard and looks to the sky. "I better take you home."

She chuckles as he walks her arm in arm to his car.

It is simple. Neither was ready to leave the other. The ride back together would give them time to talk about - the wedding – the weather – tablecloths – shawls - anything. It gives them a little more time together. For now being the passenger next to the driver is enough. Being near him is enough. It is in keeping with how they love each other. Although they are engaged there are still boundaries they will respect and keep until everything is - _signed, sealed, delivered_.


	9. Epilogue: Seeing Face to Face

I cannot thank you enough for reading and reviewing this series. You comments were truly appreciated. It means a great deal when you pick up on some things that move you in some way, cause you to smile or are some throwback to an episode that we enjoyed together. Here is the conclusion to the series inspired by Shane from _To The Altar_.

 **Epilogue: Seeing Face to Face**

He is about to say something about being punctual and not missing another reservation at Montaldo's when he sees how much this means to her.

"Certainly. I assume it won't be an extended visit."

"Oh no. Her name is Jewell."

The newly engaged couple had enjoyed the perfect weekend and now the perfect Monday. Sunday morning Oliver rose early and went to church – per usual. Shane who was physically and emotionally spent slept late and called Becky to tell her good news. After a relaxed dinner at Joe's house the two called Shane's mom and Alex. Oliver held her hand as she made the call. It was brief but positive.

Even Monday at the post office was - well – wonderful! Shane was beaming. Co-workers noticed. Everybody noticed! Sharing the DLO with no one except each other made the day more special. Sometimes even a large room is only big enough for two joyful hearts.

Serious conversations about wedding plans and marriage would come soon enough. But today they savored the moment. Oliver invited her to join him for a quiet, romantic dinner at Montaldo's after work.

Mondays at Montaldo's was different. The restaurant featured a pianist who played only love songs from the 30's and 40's. There was no floorshow but couples could still dance. It was less formal – coat and tie were not required. They offered a special "quiet evening" a la carte menu. Choose your entrée, share your side dish and dessert.

Yes, it was a bit lavish but in the event having someone ask for your hand outside a barn wasn't romantic enough this evening should help the celebration. The only problem was a pineapple.

"Why would someone try to mail a pineapple in an oversized envelope – even one lined with bubble wrap?" grumbled Shane.

Shane lifted the ripped and mangled package from the cart only to have its contents drip on the skirt of her winter white dress that she wore to work.

"Oliver, I don't want to go to Montaldo's smelling like fruit punch. Do you mind if we go by my house so I can change? It won't take a minute."

And it did not take a minute. It took ten. She couldn't decide what to wear. Finally she appears wearing a royal blue dress that shows off her sparkling eyes all the more. Its flared skirt is perfect for dancing.

Nevertheless "if you give a mouse a muffin…."one thing will lead to another. The quick stop by Shane's to change clothes led to her next request.

"Oh, can we run across the street for just minute. I have someone I want you to meet. Her name is Jewell Moorefield."

Not really waiting for his reply, Shane is already making her way. Oliver picks up his pace to catch her. This is where his concern for missing dinner yet again begins.

Shane rings the bell and waits for her friend to answer.

"I want to tell her about our engagement. She is wonderful. We will have to come back one day so you two can talk about faith. She knows all about the Bible."

Jewell's daughter opens the door. Jewell's green dress is draped over her arm. In her joy, Shane really isn't paying attention and turns back to Oliver as she makes her introduction.

"Dr. Edwards, I'm glad that you are here. I would like for you to meet my fiancé, Oliver O'Toole."

A man steps up behind Jewell's only daughter and puts his hands on Eliza Moorefield Edwards shoulders. The two men make eye contact.

"Shane," Oliver says softly.

"May we see…" Shane begins, suddenly realizing that Jewell's daughter has been crying.

"Liz, what's wrong? Where's Jewell?" Shane asks, looking in the direction of the bedroom.

"I'm glad you are here. Lewis and I were coming to tell you. Shane, momma - passed last night. We were here to take care of a few of her things." Liz is the picture of composed heartbreak.

Oliver slips a supportive arm around Shane's shoulder bracing her stand. Shane cannot speak.

"We are very sorry for your loss," says Oliver.

"But I just talked to her Saturday. I wanted her to meet…Oliver." Shane now struggles to maintain her own composure.

"She began slipping away Saturday night. We took her to the hospital. All of us were with her," she says bravely forcing a smile. "She said she was just ready to go home. She died peacefully Sunday morning around eleven."

Oliver takes his handkerchief and gives it to his love.

"I'm so sorry. She was an amazing woman and a great friend," says Shane with tears streaming, visibly shaken by the news.

"Oh, I almost forgot," says Liz.

The grieving daughter goes to the bedroom and returns with a letter.

"I found this in her Bible this morning. I believe it is for you."

The envelope has Shane's name written on the front. She lifts the flap enough to see the folded lined tablet paper. Shane recognizes the paper from the notepad that Jewell kept with her Bible.

"Thank you. Whatever she wrote I will treasure it. Just as I have treasured her."

The two women embrace and share their mutual sorrow.

"Is there anything we can do," says Oliver.

"No we appreciate your stopping by." The two men shake hands. Oliver places his hands on Shane's shoulders as they turn to leave.

"Please let me know – whatever arrangements are made. If you don't mind, I would like to be there."

"Certainly, momma would be glad."

Instead of offering her his arm, Oliver keeps his arm around Shane's dropped shoulders as she leans against him. A labored walk replaces the bounce in her step that took her across the street.

Oliver doesn't bother to stop at the car. He knows this is no time for a celebratory dinner out. They climb the porch steps, unlock the door, and reenter the house. The tears that fell quietly in public turn to sobs.

"Come here." He holds her close, gently kisses the top of her head, as he cradles her in his arms. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry sweetheart. Go ahead and cry."

When the wave of the initial heartache subsides, Shane regains her composure.

"Why don't we stay in tonight? I could prepare something for us."

Shane smiles at the thought of him cooking.

"Don't laugh Ms. McInerney. You would be surprised at what I can do with the humble egg."

"I used my last egg making muffins. I took some to Jewell on Saturday," Shane says through sniffles.

"Aren't you glad that you did?" says Oliver, guiding her to the couch.

Shane nods.

The two sit down. Shane rests her head on Oliver's shoulder. She is secure in the embrace of his arm. The two sit quietly. He leans his head against hers.

Shane realizes that she still has the envelop in her hand. She sits up straight.

"I would like to read this now."

"Do you want some privacy?"

"No. No. I want to read it together."

Shane unfolds the common 6x9 stenographer's paper and discovers three pages. The former schoolteacher's cursive writing is almost textbook legible. She thinks how difficult it must have been for her to pen this letter with hands gnarled by age and arthritis.

 _Sunday, November 29_

"I went over last Sunday."

 _Dear June Bug,_

Oliver looks a bit puzzled at the salutation.

"That's my nickname. I'll explain later." Shane smiles.

 _Dear June Bug,_

 _I was so glad to see you today. We had a lovely time together. We always do. I am sorry your young heart was heavy._

Realizing that she is caught Shane says, "I may have told her that I was worried about…."

"Us? Me?" says Oliver. With raised eyebrows but gentle smile.

Shane nods.

 _I am certain that you have nothing to fear. You have fallen in love with a good man whom the good Lord has delivered into your life._

Oliver squeezes Shane's shoulder. The two smile at each other taken by the affirmation of their relationship and the faith already expressed.

 _Love takes time and patience and understanding. This is your time to be patient and understanding. Some days it will be his turn to be patient and understanding with you._

 _That's the way it was for my Bill and me. I treasure the memory of the life we shared. A part of me died with him that awful day in Vietnam._ _When I lost Bill, I knew that by the grace of God I would marshal on. I had the joy of watching our children grow and marry and even have children of their own. But not a day went by that I didn't miss Bill. You will understand that is what happens when you and your good man become one flesh._

 _Becoming one is a powerful mystery that both parties must be willing to enter into, to sacrifice for. Love your good man well Shane. Love him and treasure him and cherish your time together._

Her voice begins to break too much and she hands the letter to Oliver.

 _Look at each other when you talk to one another. Listen with ears to understand when he speaks. Hold each other's feelings with respect. Be sure to celebrate and be thankful together for each precious moment, grateful for big things and things that are small._

 _I have grown weary, weary to my bones. I pray the time of my passing is near. Certainly as the Apostle Paul said, "to live is Christ but to die is gain." If you are reading this letter, do not grieve for me. Do not seek the living among the dead. I am not here. I am raised. I do not have arthritis. I am not alone. I am with Bill and our grandson, William III. I am with the saints who have gone before me._

 _Many things happen in this life that we don't understand. Remember that Scripture you were reading to me last Sunday from I Corinthians 13. Don't miss this part. "_ _For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known."_

 _My dear Shane, now I see my Savior face to face. Now I know as I am known by Him. And I testify that love never fails. The Lord God never fails._

 _Until that day,_

 _Jewell Moorefield_

 _P.S. I thought you might like my recipe for sugar cookies. Sugar cookies are good for the soul. Bake yourself and that good man of yours some and smile when you remember me. June Bug, I love you._

Oliver holds her close as tears flow quietly now.

"I feel I missed a great opportunity," he says, his own eyes misty with emotion.

"She was wonderful. She brought me sugar cookies when I first moved in. We would sit and talk. We even sat in the swing sometimes and talked. She liked the swing.

"Are you going to be alright?"

"Yes, I am. I really am. I'll miss her but I get it."

"Get it?"

"It's all about faith, hope and love, Oliver," Shane says suddenly rising from the couch.

Her quick leap to her feet startles Oliver so that he stands with her. "Where are you going?"

"To freshen my makeup. We have a dinner reservation to keep."

"Are you sure?"

Wiping away the last teardrop her eyes and face now smile. Shane answers his question.

"Oh yes, I am loved by the most wonderful man. Jewell said so. Tonight I want to sit across the table from you – face to face. And I want to listen to you talk and understand. And I want to tell you how grateful I am for what we have. And I want to celebrate what we have found. And I want to dance."

"You do? We may be late." His expressive face reveals that his heart heard every word and he is amazed by her as he steps closer to her.

"That's alright, Jewell says, 'Better late than never.'"

"Really and what else does Jewell say?" asks Oliver taking Shane's face in his hands.

"Oh Mr. O'Toole, marry me and we will have plenty of evenings to share those stories."

"Ms. McInerney, I look forward to those evening together."

He searches her face as if to memorize every inch.

"I do too. I do….," begins Shane.

But before she can finish, his lips meet hers with a welcomed, loving kiss.

Dear Readers,

I built this series around I Corinthians 13. I knew from the outset that if I took the passage to its logical conclusion that this was where I was headed. However, I became attached to Jewell and had trouble losing her. I hesitated and even tried a rewrite but I knew this was how it should end. Still I wouldn't blame you for being ticked with me. Thank you again for your critiques. Noticing the little things helps me know if they are meaningful to the reader. I hope you didn't find this conclusion too sad but rather an affirmation of faith, hope and love and the promise of eternal life.


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